


This Is A Story About Love

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon, Drama, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-27
Updated: 2005-01-27
Packaged: 2018-12-26 22:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: A love story ala Moulin Rouge.Justin is a newcomer to California and Brian is an actor trying to make it big.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Justin Taylor took a long drag of his cigarette and returned it to its rightful place in the crystal ashtray beside his blank sketchpad. His worn out charcoals lay scattered across the blank canvas. Beside his sketchpad stood his ageing laptop, the only color that emanated from the machine was the bluish tint from the screen that bounced off Justins’ alabaster skin. Justin leaned back in his chair and looked around the brick red studio. Surrounding the walls behind the laptop were various sketches that he had drawn of his lover, of his hands, of his legs, of his face, of his eyes, of his lips, of his torso. Justin had drawn so many of them that he recalled every inch of Brians body, even the small scar on his left hip from where he had fallen from a height. Taking a deep breath, Justin brushed his long blonde hair from his forehead and rested his fingers on the keys, ready to begin.

_No apologies._

_No Regrets._

_This is a story about love_

_At the Moulin Rouge._


	2. This Is A Story About Love

Justin Taylor walked into his small studio. It wasn’t filled with the most comforts, but it would do for now. The walls were an unpainted brick and there was a white mattress with white pillows and white sheets and a white comforter on a metal frame. To the right of the bed stood a small dresser with a few drawers where he could put away various clothing. Justin put his heavy bag down on the bed and walked around the rest of the room taking in the rest of his abode. The small closet was big enough to fit whatever other clothing that he brought along that wouldn’t fit in the drawers and was adjacent to the bathroom.

The small bathroom would have been completely exposed to the rest of the room if it wasn’t covered by textured glass panes. Sneaking behind the glass, Justin came across a bathtub with an old-fashioned shower head, and a sink and toilet adjacent to it. Justin came out the other end of the bathroom and spotted the kitchen.

The kitchen was stocked with all the basic necessities, a refrigerator, a stove, an oven, drawers, and a sink. In the middle there was a quaint round steel table that gave him the sensation of eating in a ‘50’s diner, along with matching red stools.

“Oh look Teddy, a new neighbor.” Justin was caught off guard from the voice emanating from the hallway; he had forgotten to close the door. “Where are my manners?” The strange man extended his hand through the doorway, “Hello there, I’m Emmett Honeycutt and this is my boyfriend Theodore. But I call him Teddy.”

The bookish man poked his head in from behind the frame of the door, “Hey.”

“Hello,” responded Justin “I’m Justin Taylor.”

“What brings you to Los Angeles, Sunshine?”

“Well, I’m an artist from Pittsburgh. So, I’m looking for a job as an Art Director and well hopefully sell some of my own drawings along the way. And, I’m trying my hand at writing. Maybe with a little practice I’ll get a decent movie script on the way. I’m gonna try to Matt and Ben my way through Hollywood.”

“Well, isn’t that nice. My roommate Michael’s a writer. He’s working on a movie right now based on his comic. Hey, maybe he can help you out. Me, I’m a costume designer, and well Teddy, he’s an accountant.”

“No shit.” Responded Justin, not surprised at all by the occupation of the bookish Theodore.

“Well, later on tonight, why don’t you stop by our neck of the woods? Welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m three doors down the hall to the left. Say 7ish?”

“Sure.”

The flamboyant man clapped his hands excitedly, like a small child that had just been given a new present, “See ya!”

***************************************************************************

Justin knocked on the door of apartment number 323. The door opened and Emmett greeted him wearing black slacks and a striped tangerine button-down shirt.

“Hey honey!”

“I hope I’m not late.” Responded Justin holding up a six pack of beer. Emmett put out his hands and Justin rested the alcohol on the mans hands. “My mom always said it’s good to bring something edible or drinkable to a place when you’re invited for dinner.”

“Thanks baby. Come on in.”

“This is a great place you have here. Very brightly colored.”

“Well I do love dressing things up. Even more dressing things down, if you get what I mean.”

Justin scoffed a laugh. “It suits you.”

“Well thank you. Have a seat, foods almost ready. Made my home cooked Mississippi fried chicken that my aunt May taught me, and Michael and Teddy should be here soon.”

“So how long have you been living here?” asked Justin as he took a seat on the eggplant couch.

“Oh, about 6 years.”

“Oh.” Small talk was never something that Justin was exceptionally good at.

“We’re here!!” Ted appeared at the entrance of the door along with two men whom Justin assumed could only be Michael and his boyfriend.

“Hey! Have a seat; it’s all set to serve.” Emmett came out of the kitchen with an apron around his waist and a bowl of mashed potatoes. If he had been a woman, he would have made the perfect Stepford wife. “Justin, this is Michael, and his boyfriend Ben.” Ben was a beautiful man, with a built physique and charming smile, Michael was smaller, and you could tell that he loved Ben dearly. “Well, hurry up and sit down before it gets cold.”

“So Justin, Emmett tells me that you’re an artist. You any good?” Said Michael.

Justin shrugged his shoulders, “I’ve sold some stuff, had a few small shows.”

“You know Justin,” chimed in Ben, “We just lost an artist at the studio. We’ve been looking for a replacement. If you have a portfolio of some kind, my business partner Lindsey and I would love to review it.”

“Seriously? That would be awesome.”

“Yeah, and if we like it maybe we can get you a job.”

Emmett clapped his hands excitedly again. “Oh yeah! Then we’ll spend all this time together and become such good friends. We’ll go out for Yerba Mattes and everything.”

After dinner, Justin gave Ben his portfolio in exchange for his business card. Hollywood seemed like a welcoming place so far.


End file.
